Karkat: Take A Seat Right Over There
by xX-Misty
Summary: Karkat learns the hard way why you should not talk buckets with 13 year old boys on the internet. Homestuck crack fic/To Catch A Predator crossover


_**This is my first Homestuck fic, written for the kink meme on Livejournal with the prompt 'Troll Chris Hansen' so please excuse me if I haven't got Karkat's voice down right yet, I'll get better but I really, really had to fill this prompt, I love TCAP and I would never forgive myself if I did not at least try to write this!**_

_**~xXx~**_

"Why don't you take a seat for a moment?"

Where had the older man come from? Karkat couldn't understand it. This wasn't John's father, he was fairly sure of that. He wasn't smoking a pipe, wasn't wearing a hat and didn't smell of Betty Crocker goods.

"Why don't you take your _own _fucking seat, douchebag?"he suggested instead. Who the hell was this? Where was John?

"Just take a seat, right over there," the man gently but firmly indicated the stools by the kitchen counter and despite feeling both confused and seven shades of angry Katkat found himself following the instructions.

"You want me to take any more of this ass-wipe furniture too?" he demanded as he sat down.

The man was unfazed. With a demeanour as cool and calm as a Strider he simply asked,

"What are you doing here?"

Karkat wasn't sure what was going on.

"Listening to some stupid shit coming out the protein shoot of an asshole with hair I wouldn't even use to mop the floor," he said.

"You're here to meet John, right?"

Karkat froze.

"Yeah."

"And John is… _how _old?"

Karkat thought about banging his head against the wall. It was a very, very tempting idea.

"You're in his fucking house, use your legs, go find him and ask him your fucking self!"

"John's thirteen."

"So?"

The man looked very serious.

"Do you think it's appropriate to travel all the way to Earth to meet a thirteen year old boy while his father is away from home?"

"Do you think it's appropriate to talk a complete and utter pile of shame globes in my face?"

The man seemed oblivious to Karkat's tone.

"What's in the sylladex?"

Karkat froze.

"What?"

"What have you brought with you?"

"The moment it's your fucking business I'll share it with you, asswipe!"

"Did you bring a bucket?"

Karkat felt a warmth starting to rise to his cheeks. He didn't like this. Not at all. His violent tongue was starting to ease up on the fragrant language now.

"What sort of a question is that to ask a stranger?"

"I can see it in your sylladex," the man told him, "what's the bucket for?"

"Oh my gog, do I have to tell you _everything?"_

The man laid a bundle of papers on the kitchen counter.

"I have a copy of your pesterlog right here," he began, opening it to the appropriate page, "I think you've made your intentions pretty clear."

"My current intention is to take your shitty print outs and jam them so far up your ass that they'll come out your ears!"

The man ignored him and began to read;

"'_Have you ever filled a bucket before?', 'we're going to pail all night long', 'have you ever seen a tentabulge before.?'…"_

Karkat wasn't sure where this was leading, except that this nosey bastard had been viewing private conversations.

"Oh I get it, you're jealous because no one would come within six miles of you with a bucket, shit for brains!"

The man looked at him in disgust.

"This boy is _thirteen years old,"_ he said.

"And I'm six solar sweeps, fuckass, how old do I look?"

The man ignored him.

"Do you ever watch television?" he asked.

"No, I'm usually too busy having a life."

"Do you ever watch Dateline NBC?"

Karkat opened his mouth to let forth another round of abuse but something about that rang a bell. He'd heard of that, _vaguely._ His shouting calmed a little as he asked,

"What the fuck is Dateline NBC?"

"Have you ever heard f To Catch A Predator?" the man asked.

"_N-n-n-n-n-no…."_ Karkat frowned.

The man gave a nod.

"Well, I'm Chris Hansen," he began, "with Dateline NBC, and we're filming an undercover story about internet predictors who target underage children for sex."

"I'm not a predator, I'm a troll," Karkat told the idiot as a whole camera crew emerged from behind a doorway, but something vaguely rang a bell in the back of his mind. He… _did_… recall hearing about such a stupid human show. He thought about some of the things that hadn't made sense; things he'd put to the back of his mind in his excitement. Why had John been so insistent on getting away from the door before Karkat got too close? Why had he been so quick to deposit him beside the array of Betty Crocker produce on the kitchen counter while he went to change his pants? Why had he been asking Karkat repeatedly in the chat to bring him _Mike's Lemonade?_ Karkat didn't even know anyone called Mike so he'd had to bring Faygo instead.

"Do you have anything to say to the cameras?" Chris Hansen asked.

Karkat wasn't exactly sure. His confusion levels had reached an all-time high.

"Just that if you stupid non-trolls stopped making shitty television and spent more time playing games then maybe you wouldn't suck like a herd of thirsty stinking douchebags at them," he said.

Chris nodded.

"You're free to leave," he said.

Karkat scowled.

"I hope you choke on whatever passes for your personality, fuckbrain," he muttered and stomped from the house muttering under his breath about stupid humans and how he could have ever considered one of the mutant beings to fill one of his quadrants in the first place.

"_FREEZE!"_ a bush cried as it ran towards him.

The sight of the attacking shrubbery caused Karkat to flip out. As the plant leapt upon him, alongside several men with large guns, he couldn't help thinking that this might be a good time to cut back on his trolling for a while.


End file.
